Im having another weekly occurance of despising every characteristic and physical feature about myself. Thankfully, rather than taking any responsibility and accountable action, I can simply lay the blame at my parents feet for these crippling states, (since I have undoubtedly adopted their leftovers.) Anyone reading this has to understand I am by far the most critical person you would/ will ever meet. And naturally, my criticism is expounded when I decide to turn it on myself.

So the hate is not limited to but lends itself to the following:

my brain
-I feel I am limited in its capacity and feel like an idiot for posting this post to the world

my composure
-I let people affect my mood far too easily, its a shame really.

my voice
-rather manish if I must say, someone recently described it as, authoritative…I’m sorry but how awful. Do I want to be a mouse? of course not, but somewhere in the middle would be nice.

my hair
-right now the cut is beyond awkward, I can’t elaborate too much for fear I will remind myself just how awkward it is and cripple myself to the point of immobility, thus preventing me from finishing my hate-tirade.

my nails
-always short and far from anything remotely elegant.

I love my cat Pushkin, this doesn’t have anything to do with anything Im writing really except for the fact he is laying right next to me looking excessively cute. I also want to add he is a mighty adorable little tiger. Im hoping he was delt a nice batch of kitty-karma in this life. (that is, if karma exists)

my teeth
-this requires essays full of adjectives of which I currently do not have the necessary wherewithal.

my feet
-certainly is not in proportion to my height.

my hip bones
-they protrude far too much and I always seem to run into tables, leaving them horribly bruised.

my bum
-there, I said it.

I should be forthright in also saying I don’t completely hate myself altogether, I just come pretty damn close. I still will always love my wrists, tummy, birthmark (on my tummy), and my clavicles, so, yes, I can find a few features to pull myself from the physical doldrum-pit.
Of course, I feel shallow, self-absorbed, exposed, and plainly human for having written all of the above. Im hoping this will somehow be cathartic in the end.
mmmmmmm…probably not I will more than likely finish off the hate list by conclusively hating the very essence of my being and myself and its entirety altogether.
Props for my consistency.

On a more serious note, I have obsessive compulsive needs to find and collect various charts, graphs, bookcovers, patterns and beautiful color theory piTures.
And rather than provide a picture of myself with this tirade, better to provide something unique, beautiful and inspiring…

photo by:source

photo by:source

photo by:source

photo by:source

photograph by: andreas sturm

I seem to be falling behind on simple posts…on top of that my photo viewer is still being born.
Much to do.

Lately, I’ve been going back and forth from a few books that I have had on hand
and settling on one seems to be too difficult.
Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand (re-reading for perspective)
;i>The Parallax View and The Neighbor by Slavoj Žižek (both new reads)
A Thousand Plateau’s by Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari
(disjointed writings on capitalism and schizophrenia)

I’ve been collecting from each book, words that have had significance for me at present.
I always hesitate where Ayn Rand is concerned because there always will be a floating comment or a quick-tongued-judgement and generally on the negative end. I do not hold any of her books on a pedestal or reference them like a “Bible.” I find what she writes remarkable though. Even someone who does not agree with her philosophy can settle on that at the very least.

I remember when I was with a friend at the library a couple years ago and he was checking out Atlas Shrugged (per my request) and the librarian scanning his books, (who I should also let it be known was his acquaintance), had stopped at Atlas Shrugged and said, “Now there’s a selfish book…”

I immediately thought, “what an unnecessary stark comment coming from a librarian. Of the people I would expect a voiced judgement from, that would be the last.”
The librarian saw my expression and the only thing I could do was turn, walk away, and wait til they were both finished.
Additionally, I found same judgement on public transportation and in the form of peering-gazes. In order to deter negative judgement through looks, I reduced my self to book-covers because I almost felt ashamed at what people saw me reading.
That right there says a great deal about Ayn Rand (and maybe even myself).
I certainly don’t hold myself as equal to the protagonists in Atlas Shrugged or Ayn Rand’s other writings, but I would still like to be able to read a book, generate my own opinion, without being judged in the process.

As for Slavoj Žižek, he is well known for referencing Jacques Lacan in popular culture.
Its tough to nail down an exact subject when referencing his work because he seems to dissolve the planes of difinitiveness. And I’m still developing my opinion on him so in some sense it would be too soon to tag. I seem to be on an Atheist-authors kick though, for me its refreshing considering the multitudes of religious discussions that are ongoing.

I found this quote intriguing…

“The parallax Real is thus opposed to the standard (Lacanian) notion of the Real as that which “always returns to its place” – as that which remains the same in all possible (symbolic) universes: the parallax Real is, rather, that which accounts for the very multiplicity of appearances of the same underlying Real – it is not the hard core which persists as the Same, but the hard bone of contention which pulverizes the sameness into the multitude of appearances.”

The Parralax View

photograph by: linus lohoff

“A child in the dark, gripped with fear, comforts himself by singing under his breath. He walks and halts to his song. Lost, he takes shelter, or orients himself with his little song as best he can. The song is like a rough sketch of a calming and stabilizing, calm and stable, center in the heart of chaos. Perhaps the child skips as he sings, hastens or slows his pace. But the song itself is already a skip: it jumps from chaos to the beginnings of order in chaos and is in danger of breaking apart at any moment…”

—Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus

Image by: Jody Ake, Landscape

I had today off from work so I decided to head over to Barnes and Nobles to buy a portable dictionary and a couple books. I was in the store for no longer than 15 minutes.
I’m walking in the parking lot returning to my car and I notice the space next mine is occupied by a Jeep Grand Cherokee. As I get closer, to my horror, I noticed it was completely diagonal and just barely touching the bumper of my car. After several attempts of maneuvering around the Jeep’s bumper, I was so frustrated with the person’s lack of coordination as a driver and the consideration for the world around them, that I decided to leave a note:

“Dear inconsiderate Grand Cherokee driver,
You park terrible.
Please do yourself and the community the service of learning how to park your vehicle within the designated lines.
Sincerely,
The Volvo wagon that was blocked in by your parking blunder”

I have always had an itch for knitting and with September nearing, I am feeling the need to start making chuncky-knit-wear. The thing is… I can’t seemed to get beyond my neophyte scarf-making.
I have recently found fiber art by Tsuruta Tomoko (somewhat unknown Japanese artist) and Sheila hicks (world renowned American fiber artist from Nebraska).

I have come to realize, I am drawn to artists and work that may at times appear simple, but really require a great amount of detail in the process of making. Artists like Josef Albers or Sol Lewitt, who are known for acute detail yet sometimes minimal compositions. Any art student in their first year understands the importance of Josef Albers; an artist well known for defining color theory.

So when I see various mediums executed to perfection, in this case fiber art, it leaves me in awe as well as becomes added inspiration.
When looking at it…I think…it really should be categorized as OCD fiber art, because no average human being could pull off such intense, acute work otherwise.

Tsuruta Tomoko

Sheila hicks

Granted…it is beautiful.

I think its safe to say we are beyond the point of environmental absolution. We have left finite footprints on this planet and no political exploits through movies (11th hour, An Inconvenient truth) can repair the damage that is already done.

What is fascinating is this movement allows a particular sect of individuals to control others. This “green” movement should not allow one set of beings to be valued over another. On the contrary, this is a collective-behavior-changing-effort, but it would seem that idea has been lost through politics and the appearance of environmental friendliness.

We are now in the eternal “green,” movement and as much as I agree with the idea, it has transformed into an annoyance. You cannot go anywhere without seeing someone advertise how they have now gone “green.” As much as I like the color and the environmental efforts, I believe it is a bunch of political bullshit. I am beginning to grow weary and annoyed by the sanctimonious nature of people who are anything but environmentally friendly.

I do not want to see Madonna, Leo, or any other actor, musician, or political figure’s face telling me about a crisis that I have long often known. One can contribute to the cause without simultaneously exploiting the charitable limelight. The intentions are meant well; nevertheless, they will not speed up this world cause.

In truth, the sacrifices that need to be made for such a large cause will never be made. The problem lies far beyond politics. The problem is in us. We can not forsake the life we have become so accustomed to. The capitalistic society that we thrive on is a fuel to the very cause we are trying to stop. We are a machine that constantly strives for “more” and “more” generally being material posessions that are purchased with disposable incomes.

Can you see celebrities and the wealthy elite, giving up a life they have come to take for granted?? Private jets, wide range of vehicles, high-end clothing (some of animal dissent)...
These are a group of people who are living a life of extreme gluttony, their extreme incomes buy them a lifestyle we cannot fathom and with items and luxuries no person needs.

How can such people profess an extreme change, a radical way of life to the the average person, when they have no concept of how the average person lives?
Empathy for the average or subaverage, throughout this world, is not at the root of their construct.

Until we have purged ourselves of extravagant lifestyles, we will not see these environmental efforts through.

All images by: J. Henry Fair, Industrial Scars

My name is Emily Blakely.
I am a Technologist.
I am not like electricity.
I do not follow the path of least resistance.
I like things that most think are only for nerds, geeks, and your grandmother.